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Poems By Poet Patti Masterman  12/19/2014 7:31:44 PM
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Wars Are Null, Void Rejections of Humanity

Wars are null, void rejections of humanity;
Nondisclosure of pain, irregardless of censure-
The missiles fired, from many miles away
Don't have to see, what agony has to say..

Only cowards battle beyond hope of touch,
Unsure what targets their bombs have really blown-
Propagandists always say, it was a bull's-eye-
Because none of their relatives will have to cry..
Patti Masterman



White Trash

The gas station has new owners;
though they do not show themselves much,
there is rumored fresh gas in the tanks.

While the old owner's girl sells out the last of the candy bars,
the son of the new owners sells fresh gas.

There is rumored to be a pawn shop and liquor store
also coming here; but for our part
we fear the arrival of the white trash crowd;
boozing and pawning their meager lives away,
perhaps casting about for something new to steal, to pawn-

Though I have yet to lay eyes on anyone new yet:
could it be I am the only white trash
that's blowing around the parking lot, just now?
Patti Masterman



Witness Protection Program

It's a funny thing isn't it, how you're all over the place,
When you say, that you're just trying to find yourself;
While realizing, that maybe you don't want to be any place at all,
And don't really want to be found.
Even while shouting your name, into all the crazy winds
Always pulling you in this direction, or that.
But you're so afraid of boredom; it's been haunting
Since the cradle, threatening to descend
A wave of darkness, to cover hope and creativity,
To snuff out your very identity, as half-formed as it still feels.
A depression of which, must have been your caul at birth;
And will no doubt be your same shroud, at death.
You sometimes wonder if you've been running away, for so long
That you've forgotten exactly what it is, that you're so afraid of
And if it's worth all the hassle of continuously running,
In your own witness protection program:
Let's break all the mirrors, again..
But you know, that habit has you so firmly in it's grip,
There's no escaping now; it's too late, you're not a child now:
No fairy tale can step in to save you, from that bullet.
And where is your god, you might ask, in all of this?
You evicted him so long ago,
That he signed off on your lease-
And there's nobody else wants to own your rabid soul, anymore-
Not even you; and that's got to be the saddest thing of all.
Patti Masterman



A Nony Mouse

A Nony Mouse I be
My tail is most of me
I run about the house, I creep
I only come out when others sleep
I'll only ask a crumb of you
And disappear at the slightest MEW
That's one sound I truly rue
Cheese the thing that I love best
That, and babies in the nest
I always have a lot to do
So, pleased to meet you, and adieu.
Patti Masterman
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Poems By Poet Patti Masterman